


The King of Chess (or The Monster)

by freaksout



Series: A game of chess [2]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drug Use, Genital Torture, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pain, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Torture, Violence, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freaksout/pseuds/freaksout
Summary: What happened that night in the Malibu house to Tony as told by his raper and abuser, other than godfather, Obadiah Stane.The chapter took Stane's own point of view as part of the series "A game of chess".
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Tony Stark, Obadiah Stane/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark
Series: A game of chess [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029513
Kudos: 13





	The King of Chess (or The Monster)

**Author's Note:**

> This is very explicit torture scene involving also rape non-con.  
> If you're particularly sensible, and/or more interested in the plot, you can skip this story and move to the next one of the series "The ballad of the red-haired girl" .  
> As always, apologies for eventual grammatical mistake...

Obadiah Stane got out of his car whistling.

His bald head was already shining in the morning sun of California but he didn’t mind the already hot temperature, while he made his way to the front door of Tony’s house in Malibu.

He was carrying a tray of fresh pastries he has just gone buying at an Italian food and grocery in the nearest village. He knew that the lady of the grocery made them fresh every morning starting from 8 AM for a selected group of customers, since she technically didn’t hold the authorization to serve home-made pastries. And he also knew that Tony was particularly fond of those Italian choux, especially the pistachio ones.

Obadiah felt satisfied: those would made it right after the turbulent night, as they always did when Tony forced him to act violently.

He laughed by considering that maybe they could also spare a couple of pastries for that fat bodyguard miss Potts had enrolled and they kept around them. Nothing but a loyal dog, and not even of the smart kind.

Sometimes he didn’t get the boy’s actions. After all the therapy he has done with him since he was 6 years old, the boy still managed to surprise him. He was stubborn in refusing to surrender completely, to constantly fight back… a much appreciated characteristic, though, because he gave him a good excuse to act more violently than he has assumed. And after all the variables and the hidden webs he had to control, it was liberating to just let go of his anger and frustration! And Tony has always been such a naughty boy…

Indeed it has been a very difficult night, since sometimes he has to force the little brat to remember his place in their company: just because it has his surname on it, it didn’t mean that he could do whatever he wanted of it. He had thought that his tantrum where over, that Tony has finally understood who was really in charge and to bend over, metaphorically and also physically.

He didn’t know how many toys he had to take him away before he got the message.

He has thought to have him in his hands after the kid’s parents died and he educated him for three years… and still, a small miscalculation and a little imperfection in one shipment and the boy has managed to escape. He had had the help of that old bastard of a butler back then… which now was not an option anymore, always thanks to Obadiah’s friend and a small robbery-with-murder!

He had taken him a couple of months after that, and then the boy was back in his will.

They had reached quite a good agreement: Tony would have played in his laboratory and created his deadly toys and something else that has earnt him the nickname “golden boy” even when he was a kid; and Stane would have been in charge of everything else, including contracts and shipping. And behind the stage, the boy would have continued to bend over Obadiah’s desires whenever and however he wanted him to!

In exchange of his good behavior during a couple of years, Stane has allowed the boy to take that red-haired assistant and that bodyguard as his private toys. It was also pathetic how the boy called them ‘friends’! But they were a good leverage on him: through time he had to remember Tony that said toys could have been taken away at any times, if the boy didn’t behave. There was also that colored army guy, who has managed to become Colonel. But he has never been a problem for Stane since after MIT. Tony was fond of the guy, but he was too far away to interfere in Obadiah’s plan.

And after all this time, he had believed that the situation was pretty clear to both parts.

And yet that slutty brat continued to disappoint him and the board of directors with his eccentric ideas, his innovations and his arrogance towards every suggestions! He was incredible that at his age, he continued to have his tantrums like a child… a drunk child now! Like his stupid father!

The other day, for example, the brat had made a scene when the board has expressed their concern on the possibility of creating small propulsions eco-friendly devices from the big arc reactor they’ve created at the Stark Industries (another of Tony’s fancy ideas, but for once a good one for marketing, sustainability and all that crap). Tony had been stubborn as always, by claiming that this was the future of echo-friendly energy and that they could put it into motorcycles and won some weird races he was so fond of. Another of his tantrums like the rich brat he was!

So, he had concluded that the boy had focused all his energies on this madness instead of perfecting the new Jericho missiles the Government has asked them and already paid them! And Obadiah was particularly sensible on the Jericho date of release, because it has promised a huge shipment of those bon-bons not only to the US Army, but some external partners… and they were not the indulgent kind of partner!

He had already disappointed Hydra leaders once, and he surely wouldn’t try his luck twice… not for one of the boy’s tantrum at least! And was the brat drunk despite the early hour or was it his impression? That worthless scum!

Maybe he had been better to kill alongside his troubling father… but still, the golden boy could be useful from time to time, with his body if not with his genius mind!

But what Obadiah wasn’t expecting was that the arrogant brat dared to mock him (him!) in front of the whole board, by diminishing the value of the Jericho project, by saying that it was just a boring high school exercise for his capacities. He had spitted that out with his usual arrogance and show-off of his genius, but he knew to have over-talked as always in the exact moment he had crossed his eyes with Stane. And the man has witnessed fear in the little brat’s eyes, but still he hadn’t taken it back, he hadn’t apologize, by challenging him openly against the rest of the board. He would have paid for that…

In the end they had come to an agreement with the board: Stark could have started to work on the prototypes of those propulsions after he had delivered a certain high quantity of Jericho missiles to the Government and made the money needed to finance his weirdness. Not a single dollar would have been put on anything else before those arms had been sold as required. Everyone seemed satisfied for the compromise, apart for Tony who had had to come to term with the fact he need a huge amount of money to start the creation of those engines. And the board was satisfied because the threshold required was so incredibly high that they couldn’t believe that any of Stark’s creation could have persuaded the Government to invest such a sum, even if on army and even for a war against terrorism in the Afghanistan. They’ve fooled the arrogant genius, or so they believed.

But Stane knew Tony better than anyone there, and not only because he had actually seen him born. He knew that arrogance was part of a Stark’s DNA on the same level as genius. So he didn’t doubted for one second that if Tony Stark has accepted to sell his inventions for that amount of money, he would have come back from Afghanistan with double that values, to say the less.

Still, he couldn’t allow him to embarrass him in front of the board, to treat him like an old dumb man like he treated everyone else in the board. He had to remember that Stane had created that company with his father, and that his father had managed to survive through the years and the economic crisis because of Stane and his contacts inside the Army.

And now Stane needed to force the memory back in the genius’s mind, to make sure he never left again, especially in public occasions. He would have been fine to force him to apologize, even if in private, alone. He would have recorded him and then plaid aloud every time he needed to hear that petulant arrogant voice reduced to begging and asking for his forgiveness. And he knew that the boy knew to have overstepped, because when the other counselors went out he didn’t rush himself out of the meeting room like he usually did, the last to arrive and the first to leave, his genius impossible to be wasted for such boring matters.

Obadiah stood slowly, taking his time while buttoning up his jacket and then slowly making his way towards him. He was not looking at him, the little brat, his eyes fixed on some points on the table, perfectly aware of what was expecting him.

“When?” he asked in a whisper.

His body was already trembling, and Obadiah couldn’t refrain himself from thinking that he was doing it not just for fear but also for desire: he knew that Tony was nothing but a whore, and that, deep down, he must have liked that as much as he did.

For a moment he considered the idea of taking him down right there and now.

He would have been fun to take him on the meeting room, in the middle of the day, while everyone was still around and could rush in at every moment, to find the genius Tony Stark bending over the table with his bottom up in the air, while his old father’s friend was spanking him hard with the belt before banging him like the slut he was.

The thought arouse Stane deeply, and he felt the notorious good feeling running down his guts and making him already half-hard despite his not so young age. That was again the brat’s fault, another proof of his responsibility in this.

But Stane was not a man of instinct: he has arrived where he was despite everything and everyone because, he could postponed his physical appetites to the rational reasons of a long and well-studied plan. And in this plan, he couldn’t allow the company to be dragged down into a scandal for alleged physical abuses over the young genius Tony Stark. Maybe someone would have remembered he was his god-father, that the boy called him “uncle Obie” around that same room where they’d find him naked and moaning under him.

And then there was miss Potts: Obadiah knew that she was around there, probably doing something to corner him. They were cute, both of them, in their desperate effort to free themselves from their webs, but they haven’t realized who they were playing against! So Stane never worried about that red-haired bitch, neither when she had realized that there was something going on between him and her boss, nor when she had quickly become very obsessed by Mr. Stark’s safety and protection at the point of enrolling five new bodyguards and a driver.

She had also persuaded Tony to move into a new fancy isolated house in Malibu. “Mister Stark worked better alone and in private”, she had said, and she regularly provided them with the updates on his works as well as other communications.

She was brilliant, but she couldn’t outmatched Obadiah: he took him less than six months to have offered, through different third parts, to each of the former soldiers and now bodyguards a more remunerative and less chaotic job than having to deal with a genius playboy. One of them has also got himself fired for having called his boss a “faggot” under Potts’s nose, by Stane was grateful for the spared money. He couldn’t persuaded the last one, but he didn’t think of him as a menace: Harold “Happy” Hogan was a former bad boxer, with no previous working experience in that field or a military record, so he didn’t represent a great menace.

And Tony kept him around, had lunch with him at the docks like he was playing with the puppy he has always wanted his dad to buy him. Instead Howard gave him the belt every time the boy started with that tantrum, so Obadiah took it was better to allow him to take his human pet around. And maybe the genius had also a kink for fat men he didn’t know about, but still he was not him to be so judgmental on that topic. Stane was many things but not a jealous man, so it was fine as long as the golden boy was where he need him to be, either on his knees or over a desk.

“When?” he heard Tony repeating, a tremble in his voice that arouse Obadiah even more.

He made sure the boy felt it against his leg as he moved closer to him and whispered in his ear: “Malibu. And manage to be alone!”

The boy had swallowed silently, so tempting and defenseless: despite the walls of arrogance and sarcasm he built around him, Tony remained the young kid who cried under his father’s blows. Then the boy nodded and answered: “Tomorrow night…”

“Your bodyguard?”

“He’d be gone after dinner… back at 9 in the morning…”

“Sounds fine. And Miss Potts?”

He swallowed: “She… she will be out of town till the next afternoon…”

Then he had looked up at him, as for asking permission to delay his punishment for so long.

And Obadiah has granted him a smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“I let you know when I’ll come. Make sure you turn your fucking AI off, am I clear?” he reminded him.

He has never liked Jarvis when he was alive, and surely he hasn’t been pleased to know that the bastard was back as a freaking AI! That meant he had to kill him again… but now he had more important matters, like teaching another lesson to the little brat! He was satisfied at seeing the boy nodding at his order: he has always wanted to please his old uncle Obie.

In that moment Tony’s red-haired secretary rushed in with fury.

“Mr. Stark, I need to remind you of your other appointments! We’re already late!” she said in a very professional tone.

But she couldn’t mask the worried and disgusted look she casted to Stane, and to how closed the two men were. Like he hasn’t never seen Tony Stark so or also more closer to a man before.

“Right! Sure… gotta go!” Tony had replied, marching his way to the door without even a goodbye.

Another thing Obadiah would make him apologize for in less than 36 hours. It would be soooo funny!

Miss Potts went out behind him, not before having glanced him a look of warning that has made the only effect of making him grinning with desire. That was a constant in Tony’s life: poor women who tried to protect him from bad men. But maybe if they didn’t succeed was because they weren’t that bad after all… and maybe because Tony liked that.

When alone, Obadiah took a mental note to add miss “Pepper” to the list of things he had to take care of. Sooner or later he’d have to cancel that disdainful look from her face, to be sure that she also learnt her place in the world: she was just a middle-class woman who had the luck to do an intern at the Stark Industries and then manage to become the boss’s trustful secretary. She has always dressed very professional but she couldn’t hide that perfect body and that amazing porcelain skin. Obadiah was curious to test if she’d crack at first touch or if she’d resist and fight back; he loved when women fight back.

Still he had to wait for the right moment: she was a too important card to subdue the golden prince into his desires whenever he wanted.

He hasn’t been pissed by knowing from his own secretaries that while Tony was making his show with the Board, miss Potts has come upstairs and tried to access some documents in her Boss’s office.

Stane grinned while pouring a glass of whisky: so the little brat was challenging him in another match! Or maybe that was all miss Potts’s idea? Either way they were two poor fools!

He didn’t know about the girl, but Tony had never been good at chess: he was a genius, but he lacked attention and patience. Two of Stane’s best characteristics!

Still he needed to counter-attack him now, and to make sure the brat didn’t make any other moves for at least a couple of days… which he would be sure he couldn’t after their “therapy session” two nights from now, in Malibu.

However, he had to manage his actual situation: the boy has aroused him deeply and now he had disappeared. And that miss Potts has also went out with a friend, so no chance to make a move in that respect.

Stane raised the phone and called his former secretary: “Miss Chander! What a joyful surprise to find you still at work. I wish you may come upstairs for a special service! You know you wouldn’t regret this… is your child fine?”

He probably didn’t need the implied menace, but it was better not to let anything to chance.

When the tall Indian woman arrived, Stane noticed that she was still a beauty, but she has aged. She was nothing compared to the young Miss Potts, but he has to wait for that. Sooner or later he would have the red-haired bitch to work him under the desk where Miss Chander was providing her services.

While the woman was “working” under his desk, Stane took a moment to consider how he could have proceed with Miss Potts. He could have just taken her whenever he wanted inside his own apartment in Malibu: he was already observing her in her most intimate moments through some cameras his associates had put in her bedroom and living room.

But still he couldn’t refrain himself from thinking on how she would moan under him, how he would have stretched her legs open for him.

With that thought, he came heavily inside Miss Chander’s mouth.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Stane?” he heard the woman saying, after she stood up and cleaned her mouth.

He considered her for a moment, but then he waved her away.

He has to plan carefully his next moves and couldn’t allow himself to waste energy!

It was the second time that year that the boy tried to move more or less openly against him. Maybe a physical punishment, albeit rough, wouldn’t be enough this time, and he may had to consider some actions against the boy’s friends.

Indeed, Potts, that pet-bodyguard and colonel Rhodes were the leverage points of Tony Stark: the closest things to a family he has ever had and his Achilles’ heel. Stane has already orchestrated a car accident for the poor Mr. Hogan, and that has forced Tony back in his web.

As a side effect, he and Potts had badly quarreled and they had broken their private relationship. Still, Stane had the feeling that they were planning something, or at least that the boy was up to something. And that there was Colonel Rhodes, Tony’s former roommate at MIT. A loyal friend, again, but a distant one, too busy on his missions on the other side of the globe. But still accidents could happen, especially in war zones.

On that matter, Stane could remember how easily it has been to force the genius on his knees in his own office a few weeks before: he had just dropped the possibility of colonel Rhodes being assigned to a dangerous mission to find one of the terrorists’ hiding place in the Afghani mountains, and Tony was already unbuttoning his pants. But Stane hadn’t time to enjoy him properly, so he made it quick in his mouth before reassuring him: maybe they could find another job for Rhodey for the introduction to another price to be assigned to the Stark Industries for their activities a couple of weeks from now, in Las Vegas.

He made up his mind: he would have started with Tony, two nights from now.

And when the boy was out of the games for the whole following day, he would have taken Miss Potts, by killing that bodyguard if he jumped in the way. It would have been fun to force the bitch down while Tony was watching: that would have calmed the boy’s rebellion spirits forever.

He only hoped not to break the red-haired toy too soon!

But in case he would have find another...

_______________________________________________________

Stane had made his preparations for the night as always with calm and cold-blood.

He had texted the boy when he was a few miles away from his house.

To make sure that the brat would maintain his word, he sent him a picture of miss Potts taken directly from her house, showing her in a white bathrobe as she had just exited the shower. He knew that this would take away any bad thoughts from the boy’s mind.

Still he wasn’t expecting him to fight back so hard!

Stane had thought to be long past the time he had to break the boy’s arm to force him still between his legs!

That golden boy was full of surprises…

To go in order, he has arrived in Malibu around 11 in the evening.

As he suspected, Tony was expecting him at the front door: he had also opened it for him like a concierge!

The boy knew his tastes so he was still dressed and he had entertained him in the living room with small talk and a couple of drinks from his high-quality stock.

Obadiah noticed that the boy was shaking, so he has corrected his drink with his personal drug. He made no mystery of pouring it in Tony’s glass, and watched as he drank every drops of it: the brat was starting to resist that drug, he had already had an intoxication, but it was always worth to put his defenses down a bit more. And the dealer has assured that it increased also the physical sensations, especially pain, which was exactly what Obadiah was up for that night.

After he poured himself another drink, Stane went back on the couch, widely spreading his legs and nodding at the little brat. He quickly got the hint and he moved on his knees without a word. He had started to suck him, making finally a good use of his mouth.

The old man had let him work with a big smile, sitting completely spread on the couch, taking small sip on his whisky until he had had enough: he had needed just to pat him twice on the head and his personal slut stood again, by starting to remove his upper clothes.

But Obadiah had other plans to make him regret his talk at the council, and for that pitiful attempt at getting at his private files through Miss Potts.

So, as soon as the boy was shirtless Obadiah has stood up too, hiding his half-hard cock again in his pants, pleasantly looking at the confusion spreading through his boy’s face.

He had taken him by the neck and kissed him hard, pulling his tongue through the young man’s mouth by force, and witnessing how after the first moment he had let him go at it, completely docile as he was supposed to be in front of him.

He had detached from the boy’s lips after a long moment and he had ordered him: “Your lab! Now!”

He had seen panic running through Tony’s eyes and body, the mumbled protests, his worthless attempts to get free from his grip.

But Obadiah knew him as well and hold him tight on his hair: he could have drugged him more, but still he knew he could subdue him by force. Despite the age gap, he was still very athletic and muscular and Tony has always been a nerd and skin boy. He had to admit that he had gained some muscles in the last months, but he was still no match for him, especially because he knew the consequences of his rebellion on his friends.

The brat was resisting, forcing Obadiah to drag him by force, and finally losing his temper and punch him in the belly, hard and painful, one time, two times…

But when they’ve arrived in the lab, the brat freed himself and tried to run back upstairs. Stane was force to grab him by his hair and that to punch him had in the face with a fist that made the boy hitting hard against a table.

Several objects fell down and broke on the floor, their noises increasing the old man’s rage.

Obadiah was really upset.

He thought they were long past the need of such gratuitous violence which was only a waste of time, and make also difficult to hide the bruises the following morning.

“You fell off while working!” he hissed him after having taken him back from the floor where he had punched him. His right eye was already turning black.

He felt anger running through his vein and all the subtle plans he had elaborated vanished while he pushed the boy down on one table, crushing many other things down on the floor, their noises increasing again both his arousal and his fury.

He noticed that Stark’s arm-robots have awaken and they were moving towards them, maybe to clean the debris or maybe to protect their creator.

“I’ve told you to turn them off!” the man shouted.

“J-Jarvis is off…” the brat mumbled. “I- didn’t know you want to come here… don’t want to… please, Obie… not here! I’ll do whatever you want….”

“SHUT UP!” the man shouted, pushing him back on the table hard again and squeezing his neck.

He could have just end everything like this, the boy was already kicking in lack of air.

But he needed the Stark boy! He needed his deadly inventions, and in particular those Jericho missiles. And, most of all, he didn’t want that night to end just yet!

He released Tony’s throat a bit and watched as he gasped for air.

The man took a moment to regain his composure and then he stated: “Let’s put it simple, Tony-boy: put your robots to sleep or I smashed them in front of you! And then you won’t like what I’d put some parts of them…”

But he could hear Tony thinking, considering the possibilities of out-matching him thanks to his robotic friends.

Seriously? He hadn’t had enough? Did the boy really want to die that night?

Good Lord, he must have drugged him more! But now there was not time for this, so he needed another leverage.

He raised the boy’s head by grabbing at his hair, and he looked him right in the big brown puppy eyes while he said: “Behave, Tony… or your friend Happy may have another accident with the new fancy car you gave him… and then there’s also miss Potts: all alone and about to go out of town… do you know that my friend Rumlow had an apartment just under your friend’s house? What a coincidence! Maybe I should text him, to pay her a visit, what do you think? I know he has moved in town, living few blocks from here…”

He grinned when Tony’s eyes opened in pure dread.

“Dummy… You all …” he heard him calling to his robots with a hoarse voice. “S-stay back… go… go to sleep… don’t move until I call you…”

He was already crying on the table, but at least he has completely surrendered to him.

“About time you stop the crap, boy!” Obadiah said aloud, gladly witnessing as the robots turned themselves off.

“Now that’s just you and me, Tony!” he said, cheerfully, finally leaving his grip on the boy lying on the table.

He was pleased to note that he didn’t move a muscle, he didn’t take any other futile attempts to escape what he knew he deserved from his old godfather. Obadiah grinned, and spanked him hard on the butt still covered by jeans.

“Take them down!” he ordered, watching as this time he quickly obeyed and lowered his pants without lifting his lap from the table. He has become good at this since the first times.

Obadiah kicked the pants away and spread his legs further with a kick.

Then he took a moment to look at him, while considering his next move: the easiest way would have been to just take him right there and now, to make him scream hardly, fully aware that nobody was going to hear or help him, while the old man forced himself inside him without lubing or preparing him. He has already done it as punishment, and sometimes that has ended up with the slutty boy in hospital in pain… that wouldn’t be a bad idea for that time as well!

Actually, this was already the plan, and that was why he had brought several sex toys with him just for the purpose. But now he has acted out of plan and needed a strategy to take his time without losing his own pleasure. And he was unsure to leave the brat alone to go upstairs and bring them back… so maybe he would have just gone the old way, like they were used to since the boy was a teen back from his first semester at MIT.

“You know how the therapy works, Tony!” he told him. “It’s simple: you acted like a brat, and I need to punish you. I need to make sure you got the consequences of your bad behavior carved in your skin!”

He looked at the young man on the table, trembling at the expectation of what the other had set aside for him.

And that sight made Obadiah’s mind back in time when a younger Tony awaited in the same position for him to start belting him, his younger virgin ass trembling at his touch the first time he stretched him open. Tony had always had a very nice ass…

“Well, well” Obadiah said. “I guess we should get through you the old way…”

He unlocked his belt, a grin spreading to his face as he witnessed the other’s eyes shut down, pain already running through his body at the perspectives of what was about to come. He knew that very well: it has been the same script over and over again. It made almost 15 years now, if they didn’t count the first spanking times when the boy was 6.

“Obie, please…” he heard him mutter.

“I SAID YOU SHUT UP!” he shouted. God, this brat never learnt his place… well, he has just doubled his normal amount of punishment.

It would have required time, but Obadiah was not a man to rush things.

He hold the belt in his right hand, while with the left was caressing his boy’s back, squeezing his perfect round cheeks through the fabric of his black underwear with his initials on the elastic band. Another sign of an arrogant and sluttish behavior if you ask him!

Then with a stroke he put the fabric among his cheeks, exposing the naked skin at the air. It hold tight on the fabric, while lifting it a bit, taking a groan out of the boy since he was squeezing his genitals hard with that move. He increased both the hold and the lift, smiling when Tony gasped again out of air, his feet desperately trying to reach the soil. He took him up for more than ten seconds, before finally putting him down and allowing him to breathe again.

“Stay spread!” he calmly ordered him, kicking his legs apart again. “I won’t tell you twice!”

He moved by his side and put his left hand on his neck, while he said: “You know the rules, Tony: bottom up and you count aloud each stroke. And since you were such an uncooperative brat, we’ll go till 100. Ready?”

He was pleased in seeing that he obeyed immediately, nodding silently. Small tears were already forming at the corner of his eyes, and they flushed down before they have reached “10”.

Stane didn’t rushed it, by taking him time to recover between one stroke and the other, perfectly aware that this way he would have increases the pain the other felt on his butt.

Every time he started kicking, Obadiah stopped and took a long and painful squeeze on his balls.

He paused at “40” to take out his jacket and to light one of his cigar.

He was sweating so he removed his tie and rolled it around the boy’s neck, without choking him though: that will come later, maybe.

He unbuttoned part of his shirt.

“You know, Tony” he talked to him while regaining his position and starting to beat him again. “I’m a bit grateful you’re the loudmouth brat that we all know you are…”

“41… 42… 43…”

“… if you weren’t like this…”

“…44…”

“… I should find difficult to come up each time with an excuse for this…”

“…45… 46… 47…”

“…although I’d always find a way to my naughty boy…”

“…48… 49…”

“Brace yourself now!” he told him, and he gave the last stroke with all his strength, and then other three just for fun.

Tony practically shouted in pain, by managed to keep counting. He was rewarded with a longer pause before they started over.

It took hours to reach the required 100, but Obadiah didn’t want to rush his pleasure.

“Good…” he then panted looking at the wasted mess the guy was on the table and put the belt in front of him on the table.

Tony was trembling and crying hard, but didn’t dare to move.

“Good…” the man repeated, coming closer to the boy’s ear and making him feel the smoke of his tobacco. “Lesson learnt, naughty boy, I hope?”

Tony nodded, biting his lips hard for not crying aloud.

Obadiah frowned and put his left thumb through the other’s mouth, forcefully separated his lips.

“Don’t!” he said. “Don’t ruin your beautiful face… I already regretted this…” he continued by caressing the black bruise forming on Tony’s right eyes and on his neck.

He followed the line his tears had formed down till his chin. He caressed all the way down his back till the tissue of his underwear.

“Stand and take it away” he ordered.

He pleased himself watching the boy trembling hard while executing his commands.

He made him stand painfully for a couple of minutes, smirking as he resisted the temptation of rubbing his burning cheeks.

He was still smirking while moving behind him, hands in his pocket, exhaling the smoke directly on his naked and sweat skin. He kicked Tony’s underwear in front of him and ordered him to collect them from the floor, just to let him bend and touching his hardened cock with his naked back.

“Thank you” he said, taking the underwear from him. He smelled them a bit and commented: “Someone has enjoyed his punishment, I see…”

He watched as he didn’t reply, terrified by could may come next for him: he knew that when the old man acted out of plan he was unpredictable, and he could cause him damages that would take longer than a night or a morning to recover.

He was probably worried that someone would notice what had happened and asked the wrong questions.

“Maybe you worried your fat human-dog or your wonderful miss Potts would notice this little mark on your face…” he said out loud, passing his face with his own underwear. “Don’t worry too much, boy. I told you what you’re going to tell them, yes?”

He nodded.

“Say it!”

“I- I was w-working and I f-fell off…” he stammered.

“Good boy!” he replied, in appreciation.

Then he tossed the underwear away, watching as they landed not far from one of Tony’s very expensive car. His smile widened while an idea was forming in his mind. He grab again at the other’s neck while saying: “Walk with me, boy!”

He dragged him without any effort through the lab and right in front of the grey car parked there: Obadiah has never felt the need to show-off his money and power through expensive suits or cars like the spoiled boy naked near him, which was now starting to tremble harder.

He was making small efforts to free himself, but without having the mental and physical energy to do so. Good, he was almost there. He just need another small lesson to enter him, literally speaking.

“Ah, you already know how we are going to do it…” he smirked.

Then he pushed him over the car, holding him while he squeezed to find a comfortable position.

“You’re really a naughty boy, Tony… but this is a sight I’d like to remember!”

He took out his phone and it flashed two or three times from different angles, then he put the phone over another car, checking it has a good angle to a make a video.

“Don’t worry, I’ll send you the live streaming… and obviously we don’t want it to end up in the wrong hands, do we?” he asked, rhetorically.

He smiled when the boy nodded firmly.

Was it just his impression or he was smiling? No, maybe he was just grinning in pain because he knew that they still had a long way to go.

Obadiah then stood behind him, undecided.

Sure, he had to free himself soon of the urging pressure he felt in his pants, but he would have liked to play with his slut a bit more… and he had left all the stuff he brought upstairs since he had to drag him down by using his whole strength. That was another thing he had to pay for: not allowing him in his lab was seriously enough in normal times, but in one of those nights it was simply unacceptable!

Well, it looks like he needed to make a point there.

He reached for a couch he just noticed was nearby, probably ready for a midnight nap while the genius was at work at new projects and he didn’t want to waste time by coming upstairs to sleep. That was an habit Tony had always had, and Obadiah was pleased to notice that something never changed. This and the slutty face the boy was making while still holding his position as required.

The man took his time undressing himself completely and folding tidily his clothes on the side of the sofa; he also took back his jacket from the floor, waved it a bit for the dust and glass debris and folded it on the top of the other clothes. He removed the small gun he always carried around his left leg, and put off his shoes and socks. He put the firsts under the couch, while he made a small ball of the latter. From his position, he heard Tony moaning badly, fully aware of what he meant to do with it.

“Sorry, boy” Obadiah stated with a grin.

He lighted another cigar before moving close to him once again.

He forced Tony’s mouth to open and pushed the smelling ball of his socks inside it, by stating at him choking at the revolting taste.

He noticed the boy was still wearing his tie like a collar, and for a moment he considered to choke him while banging him hard on his expensive car. But then he passed his fingers on the boy’s perfect neck and decided it was too risky leave too obvious marks over there... or to lose control and kill the brat!

So he simply passed it around his head and mouth again, to force the socks’ ball in the rightful position for the whole time. He moved behind him and made his legs spread even further.

Then he grabbed at his very sore bottom with both hands, holding tight until the moaning and squeezing had calmed down.

He spread his cheeks opened to show off his butthole, tensed and stretched like he always remembered it to be, like it was waiting for him to free it. He grinned.

“Well, Tony, you know I’m here to punish you for your behavior” he stated.

The boy under him tensed still, holding his breath: whatever it was about to happen, he knew he wouldn’t like it.

“And I guess you’ve never fully apologized for your words today…”

He could hear Tony’s heart started rushing while he was playing with his thumbs around his butthole but without really fingering him or stretching him open. And maybe the genius down there was starting to realize that there was no lube nearby…

“I’m sorry!” Tony indeed cried out loud despite his gag, panic filling his voice and tensing his muscle. He tried to turn back to look him in his eyes while repeating his annoying litany filtered and distorted by the socks in his mouth: “I’m sorry… please… please not this… Obie please… I’m really really sorry…”

Obadiah was forced to let go his butt with one hand to force him again back on the car, and then holding him there by the neck.

But now the boy was fighting, trying to grab on the car as a leverage to free himself, and clearly unwilling to take his rightful punishment. And Stane felt a bit tired after all the fight back down and then the long belting session: he only wanted to fuck him hard right now, not to start another battle with the slut prince who couldn’t take what he deserved. He had to kick him hard in the guts with his knee to force him down with a huge moan.

“Stay still or I swear your friends are going to regret this!” he hissed, making pressure on both his back and his neck.

Luckily for him, the menace was immediately effective, and he saw Tony calming down, legs again fully spread and chest down on the car, holding strong where his hands could reach but without making any other efforts to escape him. Big sobs were already shaking his whole body, and he heard him mumbling a weird song. But it was clear he was not going to avoid the inevitable anymore!

“Good!” Obadiah said.

He took a big drag on his cigar before blowing it out directly on Tony’s naked back, right above his red butt. He pressed well while the other emitted another desperate cry of pain, then it looked at the big part he has left of the cigar and put it too in Tony’s gag, right under his nose, the smell of burning tobacco mixing with the dirty socks. He smiled at the revolting expression the boy made: it was really exciting to see the arrogant genius so troubled and subdued.

But now it came the most amazing part: the man spit on one hand and rubbed it on the top of his cock, just for his own pleasure, while he maintained the other on the boy’s hip, just to remind him who was in charge.

He squeeze one of his butt cheek and ordered: “Up!”

He immediately obeyed, though Obadiah had to rise him a bit more with both hands on the shorter boy’s hips to put him at the right height.

He was perfectly aware that the tension in Tony’s muscle in that position would have multiplied the pain exponentially: and that was exactly his point!

He was still grinning while he removed one hand from the boy’s body to position his cock right at the entrance of his butt.

Then he remained, perfectly still, waiting for the panic in Tony’s body to start rushing again in apprehension.

And as soon as he saw him lifting his head a bit from his position, he pushed in, strongly and painfully, while dragging the boy by his hips.

He was fully inside him with one single, hard and painful stroke. Tony shouted aloud through the gag, arching his back and head for the pain running through him.

Obadiah allowed himself to smile: every time was like the first time with him! They only missed the fireworks…

He didn’t give him time to recover, as he pulled himself a bit out and then back in again, quickly gaining a good rhythm at the old in-and-out, each movement a groan of pain from Tony’s side.

He went on for a while, till he remembered that this was supposed to be not only a punishment but also a way of teaching the brat a lesson. So he stopped himself, fully inside him, and put his hands on both his own hips, while ordering dryly: “Head down, slut! And start doing your job!”

He took Tony a moment to accomplish his order, but then he started to move his hips against him, and up and down, and in small circles. Gosh, he was really a slut!

“Good!” he rewarded him with a pat on the back.

He lost himself at the boy slow pace, letting him driving on the point of maximum arousal.

He spanked him on the back while urging: “Faster!”.

Tony increased the rhythm.

Another spank. “Faster!”.

Spank. “Faster!”

He realized he has grabbed again at Tony’s hips and has started to move again, violently taking inside and outside him, with the rush and pain that preceded the climax.

He felt the boy shivering under him, but he had no time to wonder for it since he too came loudly and fully inside his butt, cum mixing with the blood coming from Tony’s hole as Obadiah pulled out.

He finished the last drops on the boy’s red cheeks, before taking two steps back, completely satisfied.

He took a look at the mess he has made of his official boss, the head of the Stark Industries, the genius billionaire playboy now reducing into a moaning pity slut under his hands and cock.

He pat him hard on his sore butt in appreciation: “Good ride!”.

Then his hands went down between the boy’s legs to check at his cock.

“You came without permission!” he stated. “You’re really a whore, Tony Stark!”

The boy was ashamed, tired and wasted to even dare to deny.

Obadiah thought a bit on the possible punishment, but he too was quite wasted by the fight and he was not really willingly to start again another round. He gave a look at the gag and he got an idea.

“Chastisement!” he said aloud. “And something for your butthole…”

He removed the rest of cigar from the gag, he spread Tony’s cheek again with one hand and inserted the cigar in it. He knew it could cause infections, and maybe also the need of a surgery to remove it. That would have been even better!

“And thank me I don’t light it up!” he stated, then proceeding to remove the tie and the socks from the boy’s mouth.

Time for a bit of psychological therapy to make the message penetrating.

“I said” he repeated, slowly and menacing, “that you should thank me not to light it up!”

“T- thank you, sir!” he heard him managing to say.

That signed his total victory.

But still he need to punish him for his lack of control. “That’s good, but you still came without permission, am I right?”

“Y-yes, sir…”

“So you should be punished, do you agree?”

He sniffled. “Yes…”

“Yes what?”

He was crying. “Yes, sir… please, sir… punish me, sir!”

Obadiah smiled: he had him where he wanted.

“As you wish, then, my boy” he said, kneeling behind him.

He took back the tie and rolled it up the boy’s balls, with calm and precision, before taking a final tear that made him gasped in pain.

“Breathe!” he ordered the boy.

He made a knot on the tie to maintain the chastisement.

He pat him hard on both cheeks before standing and giving a long satisfying look at him.

Then he glanced outside through the small window of the basement and he noticed that it was already brightening.

“What a night!” he exclaimed, fully satisfied.

He passed one hand over his bald head, deciding his next moves.

He would have liked to sleep, but it was too late for that. Miss Potts wouldn’t be here till the afternoon, but there was always that fat bodyguard who may come messy around his little game. He felt again angry with Tony but then he realized this time the whore down there was right: he has asked him when he was alone at night, not in the morning, so he couldn’t be too mad at him.

Actually, that gave him the idea for a good psychological play he had always liked to do with Tony: pretending!

“Here’s what we’re going to do now, my boy!” he said. “I’ll go upstairs and take a shower, while you stand here absolutely still. If you’re good, I may consider removing that tie from your balls when I went back. Then I’ll go take you breakfast while you clean yourself and the mess around here. And then we will play “pretending” with your friendly bodyguard, okay? We’ll eat our breakfast and talk like the old friends we are, until I have to go away. A fake move, and your friend takes his way to the other side to make company to your father and Jarvis! Have your heard me?”

Tony nodded, too devastated to react.

“I can’t hear you…”

“Yes, sir!” the boy managed to say, big tears dropping again from his eyes.

“Good!” Obadiah remarked his appreciated with another squeeze on the boy’s restrained balls.

He then collect his wet socks and put them directly into the waste. He didn’t mind: he was sure miss Potts has put a supply of socks and underwear for female and male partners in the guestroom.

He went there and took a long satisfying hot shower, whistling an old country song he has in his head till the night before. He arranged a towel around his waist, and collected a new pair of black socks from the wardrobe. He took his time to pass in the kitchen to make himself a strong coffee.

Then he went down again.

He was very pleased to note that Tony hadn’t move of one ounce.

“Very well, boy!” he congratulated. “Every promise is a debt…”

He freed his balls and watched him panting hard while the blood started to flush again down there.

He tossed his hold tie on the floor, and gave him time to breathe while he took a sit on the big couch.

He spent a long time observing Tony trying to regain control of his sore muscles, squeezing and stretching a bit especially his legs, but without daring moving away from the car.

“Come here, boy!” he said after a while, patting on his knees.

He couldn’t helped himself from grinning when Tony had difficulties at standing and most of all at walking to him: after a couple of steps he collapsed on his hands and knees with a moan, possibly hurting himself even more.

He looked up at him with very pitiful large eyes, but Obadiah was inflexible and kept patting on his knee.

Resigned, Tony made his way to him on all fours, sighing and moaning at every movement till he reached the man’s legs.

There Obadiah had to help him lifting and then bending over his knees. He noticed with pleasure that the rest of his cigar was still inside the boy’s butt.

“You did well” he said, taking it away as reward and tossing it again towards the car.

Tony breathed hard but managed not to cry.

Obadiah spread him a bit to watch the damages down there: good Lord, it was really messed up! He’d take days to fully recover, and maybe he had to be hospitalized again… another sexual scandal from Tony Stark’s side, but the company would survive that without problems this time!

And it was just what the brat deserved. Now he had to make sure that lesson fit in his mind for good!

Stane shifted into a better position on the couch, then hold Tony by the side, while patting his butt with his other hand. He moaned even at that contact: good, that would have made things even more interesting!

“You know what’s going to happen now?” he asked rhetorically.

The boy nodded frantically, eyes already shut and panting.

“How do we use to say, even when your old man was still with us?” Obadiah pressed him verbally. “What starts with the belt… come on, Tony!”

“…ends with a spank…”he heard him muffled.

He squeezed his ball hard, making him gasp.

“I didn’t hear you!”

“What starts with the belt, ends with a spank…” the boy repeated, louder.

The man squeezed him more, taking a long cry out of his throat. “Louder, boy!”

“WHAT START WITH THE BELT ENDS WITH A SPANK!” Tony shouted with all his lungs, before collapsing with his head down as soon as Obadiah released the pressure on his genitals.

“Very well!” the man said. “So, I suppose you’re asking me to spank you now, right, boy?”

“Yes…” he muffled. Then he turned to him with eyes opened in dread and quickly added: “I mean: yes, sir… please, sir! Spank me, sir…”

Obadiah smiled. “You have never had enough, eh naughty boy?” he said, ruffling his hair, before putting his head down once again.

He regained his position and started to spank him slowly, hard and meticulously while whistling an old country song.

“It’s a pity you never learnt to whistle well!” he said to Tony who was trying very hard not to cry out loud, despite the big tears floating from his eyes to the floor.

“Y-yes, sir… a pity, sir…” he managed to answer between his teeth, fully aware of the consequences of a lack of reaction.

“Uhm. Maybe I should teach you sooner or later…”

“Yes… thank you, sir…”

He declared the spanking over when his own arm hurt too much.

He wasn’t completely satisfied by this last part, since he usually got a bit of sleep before the spank, to manage a second round in the boy’s hole. But now it was quite late and the man felt really tired himself. Still, that was not going to be the last time he indulge himself in educating the slutty golden boy.

Next time he should have used a paddle. Maybe they could go again at Obadiah’s home and in the playroom in the basement like they usually did on New Year’s Eve… that was a nice plan for the future!

“All right, we’re done!” he declared aloud. “You can roll over, if you can’t manage to stand!”

And Tony indeed rolled on the floor with very poor grace, remaining here sobbing and passing his trembling hands on his sore body, perfectly aware that he was now allowed to verify the entity of the punishment on him.

Obadiah left him there and started to dress up.

He couldn’t refrain from talking to him: “You know? I had made some preparation and took some tools for your butt… but in the end I suppose the good old manners are still the best eh?”

“Y-yes, sir… thank you, sir…” he heard the other murmuring, but he didn’t care. That part was over, now he was just talking to himself to remark his dominance over him.

“I suppose we will have to use all that stuff sooner or later… what do you think, Tony?”

He was looking him with opened scare eyes. “Y-yes sir…” he said. “Now, sir?”

Obadiah smile: good, the brat was learning his place.

“Well, well, Tony, I already knew you’re a naughty boy, but you can’t get all of that inside you know… So, that’s what we’re going to do. Now I’ll give you some pills to keep you quiet, and allow you to stand and accomplish my orders. You would take it as a good boy! Then, as I said, I’ll go take some breakfast… maybe some of the chuffed pastries you’re so fond of! And you’ll clean this mess and yourself! When I come back, I want to find you upstairs, fully dressed and with coffee ready for your old man. Do we have a deal?”

He nodded quickly, mouth too dry to answer.

And the man made him drink and took some fancy pills with a little effort, due to the boy’s sore throat.

He smiled at him before leaving him alone, wasted in his broken lab.

That signed the end of every game the boy was trying to make, or so Stane though.

Obadiah reached his car still whistling a song and turned it on while the down has just passed. It looked distractedly at the clock: 6.50 AM.

“What a night!” he thought with a grin.

He didn’t notice the Spyder approaching the Stark’s house, neither he could witnessed Stark’s bodyguard Harold “Happy” Hogan arriving earlier at work just to grab a free coffee from his Boss’s pantry.

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at writing porn!  
> Still the point was that Obadiah is a bastard and he used to abuse Tony this way... further details in the upcoming story of the series "The golden boy", but before that we'll see Pepper's point of view in the following story of the series.


End file.
